Without fail, throughout the winter months I wear a really long pair of socks in an attempt to keep warm. There’s nothing fabulous about them, usually a pleasant shade of black or brown to match my shoes, or on a more frivolous day I’ll go for a brown with orange pattern, or black with a touch of pink.
Anyway, less than an hour after putting them on, the darn things are swimming around my ankles, something that continues throughout the day I might add, leaving me no choice other than to yank and pull them up. I’m a grown woman for goodness sake, surely by now I should have mastered the art of wearing and keeping my socks up!
Well it seems I’ve had this problem all my life. Yes, my Mum reminded me recently that she has a fond – I hope it was – memory of seeing my socks divorcing my knees and embarking on a new relationship with my ankles daily as I walked to school.
I just don’t understand it, perhaps I’ve got misshapen calves!